


Austere

by stardropdream



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you want me to say?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Austere

She knows who it is even before he knocks, and she isn’t surprised when he steps through the door, wearing a suit and looking far too solemn given the occasion. Not that she can blame him for it. She is not as happy as perhaps she should be. 

She meets his eyes, looking at his reflection in the mirror, her back to him. She adjusts the last few buttons of her dress – high-collared, of course, slim and fitted. Western-style. 

“Doumeki-kun,” she says, quietly, testing the waters. 

He says nothing, but she can feel the weight of everything he does not say, weighing down on her shoulders, adorning her thicker than any kind of cruel aura, any kind of accessory, any kind of fabric. She breaks the gaze in the mirror and looks down at her hands, struggling with the bobby pins meant to pin her hair into a delicate hairstyle. They are golden-tinged, and she hates them. She hates every little piece of jewelry and accessory littering the little table in front of her. She has no one to help her, which is just as she wishes it – on her own. She tells herself this is what she wants. 

“What do you want me to say?” she asks – begs to know – when he continues to stand there in silence, and she knows he is waiting for their eyes to meet. 

“Nothing,” he says, voice thick and rich in the too-thin air. “You don’t have to say anything.” 

She bites back the bitter laugh that wrestles against her throat, and she fiddles with her fingers – all bare, now, but soon, oh so soon, there will be a ring—

She closes her eyes, steadies her breathing, smothers the urge to cry before it can press against the backs of her eyelids, betraying her true feelings on this day – this day that is meant to be happy. 

“Then I won’t,” she says. 

“You look nice,” he offers, and it is quiet, cautious, uncertain – something he is not accustomed to. “… He says congratulations.” 

She ducks her head, unable to stop the soft sob that bubbles from her throat, betraying her. Her throat is bare, save for that stifling sob. Her fingers are barren, save for the slightest shake of broken nerves. 

She is bare and bared, unadorned in her own regret. It is her and her alone – alone. 

“He would say as much.”


End file.
